


It Doesn't Take a Genius

by vala (valinorean)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valinorean/pseuds/vala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry keeps losing his Auror badge, and it keeps turning up in the most unlikely places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Take a Genius

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wendypops](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wendypops).



> Beta: kjp_013

“Aha!”

Harry cursed under his breath as he plucked his Auror badge from between the oregano and cayenne powder in the kitchen cupboard. _Really, how does it end up in places like this?_ he thought. He was late yet again for work and Ron would have his hide if they receive another callout without him.

He silently eased his way out of the flat but not before setting a cup of tea on the kitchen counter, meticulously casting a warming charm on it, and propping a hangover potion against it.

-:-

  
“Sorry, sorry!” Harry said hastily, as he entered the office he shared with his partner, a mug of strong coffee in hand. “I was looking for my badge.”

It was an excuse he used about twice a week. At first it was a matter of leaving it on the coffee table in the sitting room or beside the key dish in the foyer, but as he began to drop by Draco’s flat more frequently, the badge began turning up in the most unlikely places.

Ron muttered something that suspiciously sounded like _yet again,_ before asking, “Where was it this time?”

“In the kitchen cupboard,” Harry replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“How the hell did it get in there?” Ron asked.

“I’m not sure exactly,” Harry furrowed his brows trying to remember last night’s events. It was one of _those_ nights when Draco would insist on getting plastered. “Draco and I had been drinking this new tequila that Blaise gave him. I think I accidentally left it there when I was looking for the salt shaker.”

“What would you need a salt shaker for?”

“Salt and lemon, actually. You know, for the lick-shoot-suck thing?”

“Too much information!” Ron cried in mock horror.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head; he was used to his best friend making far too many innuendo jokes. He placed his coffee on the table and began to shuffle through the morning’s paperwork. They both quietly worked on their reports for a few minutes before Ron broke the silence once again.

“I can’t believe you’ve had that for nearly a month now,” Ron mused, his face wrinkling with distaste as he stared at the mug on Harry’s desk. “You know, I really wish it was Christmas again so I could get you a new one. Or better yet, I’ll get you one on your birthday so I won’t need to wait an entire year.”

Harry stared fondly at the green mug. It was unadorned save for the silver outline of Slytherin’s house crest at the middle. He acquired it sometime in January when he was called in for an emergency. He Flooed into the office, not realizing that he still had coffee in his hand, until of course he came out at the other end drenched in the dark brew. The clothes had to be sent to the dry cleaners, and the mug had stayed in the office ever since.

“You know, Ron, if you really wanted to, you could just buy one for me now,” Harry ribbed.

“You honestly think I believe you’d give that ugly thing up without proper reason? Not bloody likely.”

Harry could do little but laugh at his friend’s accurate assessment.

-:-

  
“Um, what day is it?”

“Monday, why?”

Shit.

Harry could only gape at the detestable decorations dangling from the ceiling and draped at the walls of their favourite restaurant. There were tacky heart-shaped cut-outs everywhere and red cupid silhouettes on every wall. Beside him, Draco’s nose was scrunched up in disdain at the obvious lack of taste of whoever did the decoration.

It was really too bad that the food here was exceptional.

“I forgot all about this,” Harry said apologetically.

“What, forgot you asked me out to dinner on Valentine’s?” Draco teased.

“I _always_ ask you out to dinner,” Harry reminded him.

“Ah, such is the life of the culinary challenged bachelors.”

“Says the man who makes the perfect lamb shank curry. Admit it, you just don’t want to cook for me,” Harry joked mildly.

“I would if you ask me to, Harry.” The unmistakable seriousness in Draco’s voice made him look up. There was something unfathomable in Draco’s eyes and Harry was afraid to look closer, afraid of what he might see.

Harry swallowed before feigning a smile. “Let’s just grab a table, yeah?” Harry led the way to the back of the restaurant towards their usual table with Draco’s hand resting lightly on the small of his back.

The small restaurant tucked away in a corner of Diagon Alley served as their kitchen away from home. They come here most nights, enough that the staff would always have their table reserved, not because one of them was the famed Harry Potter (in fact, one of the many reasons Harry favoured the restaurant was their ability to be discreet), but because they had been eating here at least twice each week for nearly two years.

They sat side by side like they usually did, taking up a table made for four people. Out of habit, Harry took out his Auror badge and fiddled with it as Draco rattled off their order without so much as looking at the menu. He idly wondered what Draco had ordered for him this time. It was almost out of habit that Draco would order for them both. Whenever the restaurant served a new dish, Draco would order it for Harry, wait for the first bite and the verdict that it was delicious, and would promptly to exchange their plates.

“Don’t,” Draco said, placing a hand gently over Harry’s to stop him from playing with his badge. “You don’t want to lose that here.”

Harry sighed, tucked the item away, and picked at his silverware instead. It took only a couple of minutes of Harry’s fidgeting before Draco let out an exasperated sigh.

“Spit it out, Harry.”

“What?” Harry said distractedly.

“There’s something on your mind, I can tell.”

“Oh, nothing much,” Harry replied, hastily looking away.

But Draco was never one to let go of conversations. “Well, what is it?” he prodded.

“Oh, um, I was just wondering,” Harry began hesitantly, “how did your talk with your mother go?”

“Ah, that. Well, I decided I’m not meeting with Mother anymore,” Draco said with mild disdain.

Harry’s fidgeting stopped and considered the man carefully. “Are you serious? I mean, are you sure about that?”

“Aside from the fact that there is nothing Mother could say or do to make me change my mind?” Draco shook his head. “No, I think it’s just a waste of everybody’s time.”

Harry slowly released the breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. He began to feel better. In fact, he felt lighter than he’d been in a long time. A smile threatened to break across his face, but he schooled his features to a concerned look and attempted to quash his elation by trying to convince Draco otherwise.

“But it wouldn’t be so bad if you did. Marry Astoria, I mean,” Harry said conversationally, making light of the subject. “She knows it’s a political marriage so she won’t ask too much from you. She’s not even that bad looking. You get to continue your family line and you’d have a family of your own.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad, I suppose,” mused Draco. “But I’ll have to cancel my dinner dates with you. She would expect me to eat at home at the very least.”

“Hm, that would be very lonely me then,” Harry considered it with a frown.

“And I’ll have to bring her to Quidditch matches.” Draco’s eyes lit up in amusement at Harry’s horror-stricken look.

Harry had stopped going to Quidditch games with anyone but Draco these days, mostly because they both liked the same team. Even Ron was banned from coming with them whenever they watch the Falcons play because of the disparaging remarks he had for the brutal tactics their favourite team employed.

“Does she even like Quidditch?” The disapproval was evident in Harry’s voice now as Draco tried to turn the tables on him.

“No, but it’s the proper thing to do.”

Harry snorted in displeasure.

“And I’ll have to sell the flat and move back to the Manor,” Draco grinned. “It would be the best place for me to raise a family.”

“Small price to pay, then,” Harry smiled so blandly that it almost looked like a grimace. “To have an heir to pass your name to.”

He didn’t want to think about Draco selling his flat. He had spent so much time there that it felt like a second home for him.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Draco’s voice was serious again, ending their light banter. “It’s not her I want.”

And there was Draco’s hand again over his own. He didn’t know what to make of it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. And for reasons he couldn’t understand, there was a tightening in his chest but he refused to voice the question that was begging to be asked.

The arrival of their food was a welcome distraction. Draco shot him a small sad smile and gave his hand a final squeeze before turning to their food. Harry tucked the gesture away in his mind to be examined later. Much later when it was safe to do that kind of thinking.

Harry scrutinised and poked the food in front of him, but decided it didn’t look too bad. The aroma was at least encouraging.

“What’s this?” Harry asked

“Parmesan chicken breasts with crispy posh ham,” Draco replied. He waited for Harry’s first bite before asking, “So, how’s the chicken?”

“Mm. Average, I guess.”

“You’re not just saying that so I wouldn’t steal your food?” Draco asked suspiciously.

“Why don’t you just try it then?”

Draco leaned in to fork a piece of the meat, his shoulders slightly brushing against Harry’s. As the waft of Draco’s familiar cologne hit Harry’s nose, he couldn’t help but think how it was unfair that the other man could still smell this good after a long day at the Ministry.

Draco made a non-committal sound when he swallowed his food and returned to his own meal.

By the time they finished their meal, they’ve consumed more than two glasses of wine each. Draco was about to reach and pour some more when Harry placed a hand on Draco’s outstretched arm to stop him.

“You shouldn’t drink too much,” Harry said.

“Why not?”

“Drinking won’t solve you problem with your mother,” Harry said. “Besides, I know you’d insist that I join you and I have work tomorrow.”

“I’m not drinking because of that,” Draco said. Then he added mischievously, “Maybe I’m just trying to get you drunk.”

“Oh, trying to get me drunk so you could seduce me after, are you?” Harry teased back.

“Oh yes,” Draco said, his face earnest. “Then I could take you home for some proper shagging.”

“You always take me home,” Harry laughed. “And so far, I’ve not seen this proper shagging that you speak of. Not even a bit of snogging, in fact.”

“We could start with that snogging now, if you want,” Draco said, leaning in close.

Draco’s grin was light and teasing, but there was that dark look in his eyes again. Harry laughed nervously before leaning back and away. He knew when to take a step back from this kind of banter. Draco obviously knew too, as had already moved away from Harry. His grin was still in place, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time.

It was another look that Harry filed in his head again for later.

Just then, a waiter came by and placed a small heart-shaped chocolate cake topped with vanilla ice cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce in front of them. They both looked up in confusion.

“A special treat for couples, just for today,” the waiter said with a wink. “It’s on the house.”

Harry was about to protest and say that the waiter was mistaken when he saw from the corner of his eyes Draco shooting him a pointed look and almost imperceptibly shaking his head. Harry raised an eyebrow in response and Draco rolled his eyes.

When Harry turned back, the waiter was already gone.

“Now why would you waste a perfectly good dessert by telling them we’re not together?” Draco said, his fork already dipping into the chocolate.

“Is that what this is about?” Harry laughed. “Free cake?”

“Among other things,” Draco said, with a smug grin.

Harry had to look away when Draco’s eyes fluttered close as he licked the chocolate off his fork with relish.

“Right,” Harry muttered to himself.

-:-

  
“That’s it boys,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt. “I’ll just need you two to head out and check on it this afternoon and you can follow up with the rest of the debrief tomorrow.” Kingsley rummaged through the stack of parchments on his desk before selecting two that had the information they needed. He performed a quick duplicating charm before handing it to the two Aurors.

“Actually, I may need to head out for a while,” Harry said. He started to pat himself down, feeling his pockets and even his wand holster. “I think I left my badge again.”

“Right, I’ll head with you to level five then,” Ron said, getting up from his seat. “I need to see Hermione and you can get Malfoy’s keys.”

“Oh, no need. I have my own keys. I’ll just meet you back at the office.”

Harry got up and nodded to Kingsley before heading out of the door. The two men left standing shared an incredulous look, apparently unable to process what they just heard.

“He has a key? To Malfoy’s flat?” Kingsley asked in disbelief.

“News to me, too,” Ron said, dumbfounded.

“But they're not...?”

Ron could only shrug and held up his hands that clearly said, ‘ _don’t ask me_.’

-:-

  
“So where was it?”

Harry made a face. He had spent nearly two hours turning Draco’s flat inside out trying to look for his badge. He knew Draco would kill him when he finds the mess that Harry left in his wake.

“It was under the couch,” Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t look there first!”

“Why would it be on the couch?”

“I slept there last night.”

“Why were you sleeping on the couch?” Then Ron added with barely concealed glee in his voice, “Did you two fight?”

“No, we didn’t,” Harry replied. “And where else would I be sleeping? You know his flat only has one bedroom.”

“I don’t know, mate,” Ron asked with a touch of sarcasm. “Maybe on his _bed_? With _him_?”

“Haha, good one,” Harry deadpanned.

Ron shrugged and let the conversation drop.

-:-

  
They returned half drunk and laughing from celebrating another Falcons win. For wrecking Draco’s flat the other day, the blond insisted that Harry take him to the Falcons game that weekend. An easy feat, Harry thought, as he’d already purchased their tickets to the game the weeks before. They tumbled into Draco’s flat still heady from alcohol and adrenaline from that afternoon’s game.

“How about a nightcap before bed?” Draco said as he came out of the kitchen holding two glasses of wine.

“Getting me drunk again, are you?” Harry teased.

“I am not,” Draco looked affronted, then he smirked. “You already came home willingly with me.”

Harry laughed before taking the proffered drink. They drank their wine in silence for a while before Harry spoke again.

“So I was thinking about what Ron said and I think he’s right.”

“About what?” Draco said tuning to face him.

“About me practically sleeping here every night and settling for the couch.” Harry didn’t dare look at Draco’s face.

“Go on,” Draco said when Harry didn’t say anything more.

“And well…” Harry hesitated. Then he looked up and met Draco’s eyes. “I think it’s time I get my own bed in this house.”

“I only have one bedroom.”

“Well, we could share that.”

“It can only fit one bed.”

“Maybe we could share that too,” Harry said slowly.

“And the pillows?”

“Hm, we’ll definitely have to share those,” Harry said with a wistful smile. “I love your pillows, they smell like you.”

“How about the blankets then?”

“I think…” Harry whispered. “Maybe we won’t be needing them.”

Silence stretched between them as Harry waited nervously for Draco’s verdict.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked him one last time.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” And it was true.

-:-

  
When he entered their shared office, Ron did a double take. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Yep, Harry really was there, early for once, working industriously on a report.

“So, you didn’t lose your badge this time?” Ron tried to ask casually, though deep inside he was burning to know.

Harry looked up, surprised to see his friend leaning by the door. “Huh? Oh, I did,” he replied distractedly. “But I found it easily enough.”

“Yeah? So where was it this time?”

Harry ducked his head, pretending to read the piece of parchment in front of him, but Ron could see the faint blush colouring his best friend’s face.

“It was under Draco’s bed.”


End file.
